


The Golden Fox

by HaveMyWeedCookies



Series: The Fox and the Wolf [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sanji is a fox, Zoro is a wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveMyWeedCookies/pseuds/HaveMyWeedCookies
Summary: "Where is your little friend?”“He is not my friend. He is my… nemesis.”Mihawk stared down Zoro, “Right, the nemesis that naps on your belly.”Or, a heartwarming story of the resident fox and the new-arrival wolf that hunted foxes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping for a resurgence of fox!Sanji fics.
> 
> Edited: The story is finished. Thank you, everyone, for taking a short journey with me :)

**The Fox**

Our story began 21 years ago.

There was a small fox went by the name Sanji, whose family abandoned him in the woodland. The family migrated to the North and never be seen again. They left the kit to die because he was a runt, too weak to be alive.

Sanji tried to run after his family but his little legs couldn’t catch up the adult foxes’ pace and soon they disappeared from his vision and he was left behind, alone in the forest. He cried instinctually. He whined for his mother to come to comfort him, before remembering that she was already dead, killed by a hunter and his frightening hound.

His father blamed him for her death.

They were the red foxes but Sanji was born with golden fur and a pair of blue eyes. His father despised him as soon as the cub was born but his mother called him pretty. He always preened on her praises; he really believed he was pretty. He was too young, naive and he didn’t know - the kind of fate waiting for the fox who couldn’t blend into the environment. His mother paid the price and his father was right. He was a jinx. And ugly.

The sky started to rumble and soon the rain fell, forcing the kit to scramble back to his old den, to shelter himself from the rain and the thunder. His mother gave birth to him and his siblings here. It used to be warm and safe but without the others’ warmth, now it was cold. He was never alone in his life and the idea of the lurking predators in the dark outside terrified him to the point that he dug a hole in the wall, large enough to fit his size. Sanji laid down and wrapped his bushy brush around his body, trying to picture the feeling of his mother’s last cuddle. Sanji knew it was pointless. This was the wild, there was no place for a weakling. But just for tonight, he’d mourn for his mother, and his lost family; he cried until he slept. If you could hear it, the sound was very human-like, like a child’s heartbroken wail but in the forest that night, no soul heard the sad little kit's cry.

That night was also the first time Sanji fell asleep with an empty stomach. And it wasn’t the last one.

Foxes were nocturnal animals but Sanji was scared of the dark. He was a terrible hunter but to be fair to a 3-week-old fox, all prey was larger than him, equipped with hooves, fins, and sharp teeth. So, he lived by grubs, worms and wild berries that never were enough to fill his stomach. He had to be wary of the predators all the time. Jackals stalked him; owls tried to throw him off the cliff. It was the badger that destroyed his den, his home; he was almost buried alive. He found a new home in a tree hollow and prayed each night that no animal could ever find him. He hadn’t left the tree hollow for three days.

Sanji never hunted at night again.

When the fox came out, he looked tired and was thinner than before; his fur lost its lushness. He was still wary of the eagles and hawks but there were always predators and he was too starving to keep hiding.

At some point, he wandered off the woodland while searching for food, and entered the human habitation. He heard the sound of birds, which he later learned was a domestic kind of fowls that humans called ‘chicken’. Sanji’s ears perked up in hope and licked his lips in anticipation. Fowls meant nests; there would be eggs.

The chicken was less aggressive than their wild relatives but was nevertheless protective of their eggs. The little fox was attacked as soon as it set foot on their coop. They assaulted him with their beaks, hit him with their wings and if he dawdled, he would be stomped to death in no time. Sanji grabbed the eggs, swallowed them in his mouth and ran faster than the wind, or as fast as a starving cub could. He dropped most of the stolen eggs in his hurry to cross the wired fence. The sharp wire scrapped his body. When he made it to his new home, there was only one egg left. The fox gently cracked the eggshell opened with nibbles, trying to not spill out the valuable liquid inside. His eyes shone with childish happiness because he was going to savor his hard-won prize. Even his body was dripping with blood, it was fine. He was alive; he was eating.

The farmer noticed quickly that there was a menacing fox lurking around to steal his eggs and terrorize his chicken. He knew what he had to do and set up fox traps. He also skipped his hound a few meals so it would be hungry enough when the fox hunt began. The farmer was also thorough. He bought a new gun which he had been wanting it for a while and wouldn’t it be nice, to test it on a living target like the fox. It was a pest. Two birds, one stone. He was clever.

He didn’t have to wait too long. Just a few days. It was clearly starving or young.

He heard the chicken’s cry, a snap sound of the trap and the pest’s howl of pain. He grabbed his gun.

The ground, it grew a set of jaws! And it sang its teeth into Sanji’s thigh! He trashed agonizingly on the ground, howling and trying to get his hinder leg off the metal jaws. He heard the sound of boots and his heart sank. The farmer was coming for him.

It was perhaps a surge of adrenaline that gave him the strength to pull his leg out. The pull tore a big chunk of flesh from his thigh; the pain was immeasurable but he was free. Quickly, he limped away to the closest wasteland, hoping the grass was tall enough to hide his body. It was dark, and if he stood very still, maybe the human might not see him. They had terrible eyesight.

The farmer tried to search for him and was shouting angrily when he didn’t find Sanji. He went back to his house. Sanji heard he went to his backyard's door, the sound of a chain being unlocked. Oh, no. He was unleashing the hound.

Sanji ran. He ran and ran. He didn’t stop even his body protested. Even he was exhausted because if he stopped, he’d be dead. It rained that night again, quite conveniently. Sanji usually hated the rain. He hated getting wet and cold but in this situation, he was so grateful for its timing. It washed away his scent and his blood.

He was safe. For now.

He was dying.

He hadn’t gone out of his hiding for almost eleven days. His leg was broken; it didn’t get better. It was infected; there were flies, eating his rotten flesh. He licked the wound hopelessly because it was all he could do. He was again back to being weak, hungry and in pain.

He was going to die.

He was waiting to die.

Waiting, he realized, was the most tormenting thing. While lying down, he could feel everything – his body was slowly degenerating, cannibalizing itself. It made him feel so powerless like his life lied on somebody else’s hand. All he could do was just to take whatever they gave it to him. For the first time in his life, the kit felt the anger. Angry for being tossed and toyed by the gods.

He was no one’s plaything, thought the fox.

The anger gave him what he needed, the determination to stand; his legs were shaking like a newborn colt but slowly, he walked out of his hiding, planning to go find someone who could end his life and all the misery. He was going to take back his life from fate. But the fox was too weak. As soon as he got out, his legs collapsed on the closet grass bed. He panted, feeling drained; his blue eyes were brimming with tears. Again the rain fell like it tried to mock him even though the droplets felt so mysteriously soothing. The kit closed its eyes, waiting for the cold, the humans, or the predatory animals to finally kill him.

Zeff was an old man and a chef. Old men and chefs foraged the forest for wild mushrooms and that was what Zeff was doing in this morning, picking up edible fungi and putting them in his basket. The last night’s rain resulted in satisfactory blooms of mushrooms; free to collect and good for many dishes.

When he searched the grass fields for mushrooms, however, he didn’t expect to find a dying fox cub on them. It was so small, injured and severely malnourished. It was practically withering away in front of his eyes. He had never seen a fox battered up this badly before. Its breath was barely visible but it was there like the kit refused to just die –Zeff was so impressed with its fighting spirit. Its fur was also wet, probably from lying in the rain all night. It might be the reason why the predators didn’t get the fox yet; it rained cats and dogs last night even the beasts sought shelters.

Zeff didn’t know what to do with the animal and considered leaving it alone because this was nature, right?

As he was hesitating, the fox cracked his eyes open and Zeff was stunned.

Its eyes, they were so blue but that wasn’t all he saw in the fox’s eyes. It looked at him, really looked at him, with such intensity and awareness. Fearless. Intelligent. Honest. The qualities that even many humans didn’t possess. Zeff felt a person was looking at him instead of the animal, and he couldn’t just let it die.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind sharing the basket with the mushrooms.”

“What did you just bring back, head chef? Is that a rat?”

“Idiots, it’s a fox!”

“Are we cooking foxes now?”

“Shut up, you degenerates! It’s just a baby, leave it alone! Someone call the pineapple head, I need him to have a look on the kit’s wound,” bellowed Zeff.

“Isn’t he a human doctor, head chef?”

“Fucking call him, damn it! How could I find a vet in this fucking town that has just one doctor!? Just call him or I fillet you alive!”

Sanji heard the noises. They were so loud but he had no energy left in him to do anything. Despite it, he felt warm and cozy. The last time he felt this sensation was when his mother nuzzled him. But this was different, less of fur and more of hairless wrinkled skin. He felt his body was wrapped in something unidentifiable and smooth. He felt the touch of the hairless-skinned animal again, gently stroking his head. It was weird but not entirely unwelcome. It was the touch of a living being that didn’t mean to shun him away, or harm him, or cut him open. He missed it so much. He didn’t want to wake up from this warmth.

Sanji woke up in a foreign setting, definitely not the woodland. The fabric that he laid on was silky, soft and bouncy to be grass or soil. He lifted his head to look around and was certain that this was a man-made environment. The floor was tiled with smooth flat rocks and the wall was painted in blue. He saw the source of heat from a tall black block. On top of it was a pot that smelled like cooked food. Sanji was now salivating. He knew the smell of cooked food. When he sneaked in the farmer’s chicken coop, sometimes he could smell this aroma coming from the human’s house; it always made his stomach growl. The chicken also talked about this place all the time when he ambushed them for eggs. They were in fear of this ‘kitchen’ because it was the place the humans cook food. And kill animals. Humans killed many kinds of animals: chickens, pigs, ducks, cows, fishes, and even predatory animals.

That was why Sanji never dared to step inside the farmer’s house despite his curiosity.

Sanji didn’t want to risk staying to see if this human ate foxes or not.

Zeff heard the scratching noises on the door and knew that the cub was awakened. Marco brat did a good job it seemed; even he looked so uncertain, his medicine must be working fine on the fox. Zeff considered giving the man a discount for the next meal. But first thing first, the kit needed food.

When he opened the door, the kit was trying to hide under the cupboard. It was so tiny that it could fit in under the narrow gap between the cupboard and the floor. Zeff wouldn’t notice it, had it not left its large tail out in the open. He wanted to laugh but suppressed the urge because that would be too apathetic. The kit was really scared of him.

“Oi brat, Come out and eat. You must be starving, right?” Zeff said to the silence. He knew the fox was listening. He went to the stove and generously poured creamy fish soup on a soup plate and placed it on the floor for the fox to see and smell. He went to sit on a chair and lit his cigarette, hoping the distance would make the frightened fox comfortable enough to get out of its hiding spot.

“You’ve slept for 2 days. No one thought you would make it. You were practically a walking skeleton when I found you-- well still a skeleton.” Zeff said casually like he was speaking to a real human. He didn’t know why he bothered to stay and converse. He should have left the food and gone but Zeff felt in his belly that the animal understood his words. He didn’t want to treat it like a mindless beast when it was clearly not one.

“I found you in the forest dying. Now, you are living in my house, well, a restaurant. The waitresses made you a little bed from the basket and old clothes. Did you like it?”

The fox's snout appeared out from under the cupboard, following by its little face. It looked at him suspiciously but there was a little spark of curiosity in it; a good sign.

The fox finally crawled out five minutes later, stared at him and sniffed off the soup. It looked painfully torn between gobble up the food or run away. Well, there was one thing about not trusting him but Zeff didn’t stand any distrust toward his food. He leaned down to have his face as close to the fox’s level as possible while trying not to break his old back. Slowly, he said to the little fox, “You’ve been through a rough patch, haven’t you? Me too. But listen, I’m a chef. Do you know what that means?”

The fox looked up to him, his ears flicked curiously. “It means I feed people for a living. I take pride in it. I will never poison my food if that is your concern. Don’t offend me. Eat the food.”

The fox looked affronted and let out a funny high-pitched howl to show Zeff that it didn’t appreciate being ordered around. It glared at the soup but at last the kit ate.

He planned to take just a small bite because he’d be stupid to fully trust the old human even he barked like a fox. But after the first bite, he couldn’t stop eating. He gobbled it down, barely chewed it; he made noises. He knew he was making gluttonous whines while eating. He had something to eat and didn’t have to work or compete with anyone for it! It was so plentiful and it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. 

He finished cleaning the plate and looked at it forlornly when the plate was empty.

“It’s good, isn’t it!” the old man laughed heartily. He yelped and wagged his brush in a friendly manner because it was logical to be polite to a man who just fed him. The man grinned. “You know, for a fox, you are too well-mannered. Better than my clients. Some ungrateful brats even leave food unfinished.”

Sanji growled in agreement and beat his tail on the floor angrily. The idea of food being wasted agitated him.

A saucer of milk was placed in front of him and the same hairless-skinned hand patted his forehead. 

Sanji’s world had changed since that fateful day. His lonely world now had humans in it but the only one that mattered the most was Zeff.

Zeff ran a dining restaurant called the Baratie. He was the boss who ruled the kitchen with an iron fist and the cooking and waiting staff were his subordinates. It was not that different than a fox family, especially when Zeff growled and the others whined.

Because Zeff was their leader, he had a personal kitchen where Sanji stayed. Zeff would visit him three times a day: morning, afternoon, and evening, to feed him and give him snacks.

“What do you want to eat tonight, Eggplant? Fancy seafood?”

Sanji yelped from his bed enthusiastically. He was still slightly annoyed by the name the old man gave him. Just one time. One time that he bit into the vegetable because he never saw a kind of vegetation that was purple before, not that he liked it. Zeff, on the other hand, took the joke seriously and made it the name he now called Sanji with. And there was no way that he could communicate to the human that he had a name that his mother gave him, yet. In the meantime, he would endure it.

For 29 days that the fox had stayed with him. His wounds were healed and he was getting bigger. Zeff realized three things. First, the fox was fucking golden. After getting proper nutrients, Eggplant had shed his former mangy brownish fur for a golden one. That’s right, Eggplant was a golden fox. Second, the fox’s darker hair above his eyes seemed to twirl in a funny way, almost like curly eyebrows.

“You look ridiculous, Eggplant,” Zeff told the fox who bristled and loudly complained in his fox language. He didn’t need to know he was being sassy.

Third, it was about the time for Eggplant to go back to the forest. Zeff knew he had been pushing back the date to return Eggplant to his real home. He would have continued to postpone the return date, with the excuse of being old and forgetful, if Dr. Marco hadn’t visited him to check on Eggplant. And to collect the discounted meal.

Damn it.

The doctor arrived with an animal crate. The thoughtful bastard.

“Look, did you not see his fur? It’s fucking gold, doc! The hawk would spot him miles away so the degenerate hunters who want his fur!” Zeff fumed while Eggplant curiously sniffing the crate and growing softly at it. They were in Zeff’s personal kitchen.

“But he cannot stay either, Zeff-san. He is a wild animal. He has to go back to the woodland and start a family of his own,” Marco tried to reason which earned him the glare from both the human and the fox. The fox went to hide under Zeff’s chair. Poor Marco cringed. It was painful to be hated by animals. He hated to be that man to do this convincing thing. 

“Think about it, Zeff-san. I know it’s hard for you but he'd better be off with his own kind,” the doctor told the chef, “I’ll be back tomorrow to return him to the forest if you are… not comfortable to do it.”

Sanji tried to hide but the tiled floor was impenetrable to dig a tunnel. To his horror, the man with pineapple for hair seemed to successfully manipulate his old man. Zeff looked resigned but he AGREED to get Sanji into the crate.

How could Zeff fall for that talk? Didn’t he see with his own eyes how the woodland almost killed Sanji? Sanji wasn’t a tamed animal that was true but that woodland wasn’t his home either!

After dinner, the old man summoned his subordinates known as Patty and Carne to help put Sanji into the fucking pet carrier. Sanji bit and scratched them. But when aggression failed and he was stuck in the crate, he whined and cried as pathetic as possible, even scrubbed his nose on crate's door until it reddened.

Zeff immediately left the room.

He looked upset and it unsettled Sanji.

Sanji figured how to open the crate’s door around midnight and went to find Zeff to comfort him.

He found him on the second floor of the house. Zeff was sleeping in a human-sized basket called a bed. He was never in Zeff’s room before. Sanji didn’t know what to do. Hiding in Zeff’s room until he abandoned the idea of returning Sanji to his ‘real home’ was one of the options. But Zeff chose that moment to shudder because he didn’t cover himself in a comforter even he knew so well he was a hairless animal. Sanji sighed and climbed up on the bed. He dragged the comforter with his mouth until it covered the old man. He looked at the perfect niche between Zeff’s body and his arm and went to curl himself in that spot. He put his head on the man’s chest to give him warmth. He felt right and didn’t think of what would happen to him in the morning at all when he fell asleep. If this was his last day in this house, he wanted to spend it with the old man who saved his life because he knew he would never, ever, find a human like Zeff again.

Zeff woke up to the warm little body pressing on his chest and decided, _‘screw it!’_

He returned the empty crate to the well-intended doctor who had no choice but to accept it.

After that Zeff introduced Sanji to the cooks and waiting staff. Cradling the little fox on his shoulder with one hand while the other held a rolling pin warningly as he threatened to grill them alive if they dared to object his decision to keep the fox even an eatery shouldn't have a pet because “Eggplant stays.”

There were many interesting things that happened since Eggplant came into his life. He made many things worthy of remembering for Zeff who used to not care much about himself and the world around it. He could still recall that one time, he was almost dying from the cold fever during Eggplant’s first winter. The blizzard hit their town badly. All the shop was closed and Zeff was bedridden for a week. Eggplant never left his side. In his delirious state, he thought he confessed something to the fox, something like, “If I die, you have to survive on your own, kiddo.” Because that was what worried him the most.

The fox wasn’t happy about what he just heard. He angrily bit his fingers, gentle enough to not draw blood but hard enough to get his point across. Then he berated him with his little barks until Zeff laughed and apologized.

The next day, the blizzard miraculously stopped. Zeff recovered but lost one of his legs. He was wearing a wooden peg now.

Somehow, the provincial little town had never experienced snow ever since.

Here’s a thing, a lifespan of a fox could reach 10 years but they normally lived for 2-3 years in the wild. Sanji was now a 21-year-old fox who was still living. But instead of an ancient old fox, he was as lively as ever. As if he was still a young fox, even his natural prime time already passed for a long time ago. The town people had mixed feelings about the Baratie’s resident fox. Some called it a bewitching fox, of course behind its protective owner’s back. Because that animal seemed to live forever. It charmed the town women to visit the restaurant over and over again. And to certain unfortunate souls like a man named Fullbody, a self-proclaimed food critic, the fox was a demon. That menace assaulted him! Sadly, this was the 21st century so people like Fullbody get teased and mocked for being heartless backward.

But they swore the fox was plotting.

Sanji, on the other hand, was one busy fox. He had to wake up at 3 in the morning to start his daily schedule. He’d climb off the bed he shared with the old man, carefully not to stir the snoring head chef up from his needed rest.

Then, he would transform into a human.

He first got the human body eleven years ago and had been perfecting it ever since. Sanji inspected his appearance in the mirror. His human form had blond hair, the same color of his fur, styled in a way to hide his left side of the face for a mysterious charm. He had blue eyes, an average height of male humans, a sinewy body and long legs. Recently, he decided to add some fancy facial hair to his form so he would be more masculine but still charming and pretty. He updated his clothes to be black suits because it was what cultured men wore, according to the female’s magazine.

Sanji’s human appearance represented him as much as his animal form; he thought of it as one of his real shapes. He spent more time in his animal body, of course, perhaps because of familiar and sentimental values. But he liked his human form too, it was handy. Literally. He had hands. Fingers and thumbs.

With them, he could cook.

Every morning, Sanji would prepare food and leave it in the kitchen before the staff arrived. The other chefs seemed to love the food. No one suspected a thing, easily assuming it was from one of their colleagues. Sanji was proud of his cooking and liked the compliments but the person he wanted to feed the most had yet complimented the food.

The old man just ate.

He finished it and went to bark orders to the staff. It had been eleven years and Sanji was so frustrated. Obviously, Zeff didn’t know that Sanji was the one who cooked it or that he could turn into a human but that wasn’t the point. It had become a competition for the fox - that one day, he would make the old man admit out loud that the food was good.

When the food was ready and was warming on the stove, he returned to his fox form and went to wake Zeff up.

He didn’t say anything during breakfast again. But it was alright. They had all the time in the world.

**The Wolf**

After breakfast, Sanji would go to the reception counter by the restaurant’s gate. There was a reserved spot near the windowpane where his bed was placed, Sanji would sit in there throughout the morning rush to greet the waitresses and lady guests coming over for breakfast, let them shower him with coos and affectionate pets. Some male humans weren’t too happy with him stealing their girls but they knew better than to try anything funny. No one wanted to relive _the Fullbody Incident_ again. Blood was all over the place the last time.

Sanji patrolled in the afternoon. He saw the town as his territory to claim and defend. His land consisted of the town, the port, the old woodland where he used to live as a kit, the mountain and its pine forest, including all the property built on them. He heard the newest piece of rumor recently - that the townspeople saw someone moving in the ruined castle in the mountain about five days ago. This was under Sanji’s jurisdiction; it was the time for him to investigate who moved in on his land.

He opted to patrol in his human form, to master the disguise and to flirt more with pretty women that maybe one of them could be his mate. He didn’t find the one yet; he wasn’t desperate but he kept on looking anyway because life could be quite dull as a bachelor.

At the top of the mountain was a small shrine in which fishermen and farmers come to pray, also it was Sanji’s property. The ruined castle, however, was hiding deep inside of the dark forest where no light could get to the ground due to the density of tall pine trees. Not even predators wanted to hunt in that area, saving for one peculiar hawk. On his way to the mountain, he didn’t miss to say hi to the townspeople who greeted him back. The people would go home with a little frown on their faces because as they tried, they couldn’t remember who the beautiful gentleman they met today was; the young man was so foreign yet so familiar. It was impossible not to remember the face like that in this small town where everyone knew everyone…then they would have to dismiss it as just one bizarre day of their normal lives.

The man’s road ended after the shrine but Sanji continued on. He slipped to the forgotten footpath that led to the abandoned castle. He was in no hurry because he was the strongest being around here now. No longer did he have to fear creatures of the forest. He had his teeth, his legs, and some magic with him. Sanji was confident that he could take down any creature standing on his way.

There was a man standing 500 meters away on the footpath.

Intentional or not, he was blocking Sanji’s path. This unmoved man wore a worn-out green coat, black pants, and military boots. He looked like a homeless, except a homeless had no right to be in this forest nor he should have three katana swords tied on his hip. They were of similar height but the man was clearly more muscular than him. His hair was short –and green. Up-close, the man’s eyes were shut, a fainted scar run across his left eye, his brows furrowed, and his face set in a permanent scowl.

He was bad news.

Here were the reasons:

First, he never saw this man in the town before. Visitors were always Sanji’s bad news, like health inspectors, city-born food critics or amateur hunters.

Second, his ears didn’t pick up the man’s footsteps. Either he was too quiet or he was standing on the footpath for a while. Neither of them sounded good.

Third, he wasn’t quite sure he was a human. There was no wind in the forest and he was too far for Sanji to detect his scent. No ears, no tail. Either he was a lost human or his disguise was that good.

Sanji’s body was already prepared for the fight but he was still optimistic - that perhaps they would be on their merry way without an unnecessary confrontation. Animal spirits didn’t always fight.

As he was getting closer to the man’s ear range, Sanji called out with his most charming voice, one that ensured absolute enchantment on the humans. “Hello,”

The man opened his eye.

And it was unnaturally grey, almost like silver. Too sharp, too feral to be possessed by the human. The forest seemed to move by a sudden surge of strong wind. Sanji was downwind so he finally got a whiff of this man’s scent he'd wished for.

He was no man.

“Fox,” growled the fucking hound.

His animal instinct took the helm and decided on **‘flight!’**

There was no point of keeping up the disguise so he abandoned it and ran for his life. The hound seemed to share the same idea as it ditched the human body and pursued him in its canine form. The fucking mutt was persistent. Much to Sanji’s surprise and dismay, he was fast enough to keep up with his full speed.

The fox tried to get rid of it by zigzagging around the spiky bushes but the fucking dog just ran straight into the shrubs, too thick-skinned to feel their pointy needles, and continued on the chase as if nothing happened. Sanji cursed and quickly devised a new plan.

He saw a very tall pine and took a sharp turn to its direction, turning back to human and started climbing the tree. He went for the highest branch that was stable enough to support his weight, then he looked down below.

The hound was still there.

_No, it is the wolf._

It was still growling at him from below but it was too clever to follow him up there. It sieged the tree instead, blocking all Sanji's ground escape routes.

“Leave me alone, you dirty mutt,” hollered Sanji and threw pine cones at it.

 _“Come down, pest,”_ growled the wolf. Their size was notably different in the animal forms. It was almost six times larger than Sanji. Its paw could easily be the size of the fox’s face. Its snout was large and long, so was its teeth. Its fur was grey like its human eye.

And Sanji’s brain had to notice this… there was nothing green on the wolf.

“There is nothing green on your dog form,” commented Sanji because his mouth had no filters. The wolf glared at him before turning back to the greenhead human who was still glaring at him. “What the fuck, fox?”

“Are you deaf, marimo? I asked: where the fuck does that green come from? Moss on your dirty fur?”

“What did you just call me?” Snarled the wolf.

“M-A-R-I-M-O, marimo. Don’t you know? Oh, I forgot that Doggo doesn’t go to school, that explains your thick skull,” jeered Sanji.

“Shut up, curly brows. Your eyebrows are so ugly I never wish it on anyone even the dishonorable creature like the fox.”

Sanji’s smirk died down.

“Dishonorable? Me?” Hissed Sanji, angered, “Look at you, catch people off guard and chase them up to the tree. You are no honorable than me, hound. Your integrity is dog shit. I can beat you in any fair fight if you aren’t such a coward.”

The greenhead man sneered back at him, looking beyond furious.

“Come down and fight me then, fox. I’ll cut you to pieces, fair and square,” the wolf challenged.

“How could I trust your word - that you’d not attack me when I’m getting down?”

The dog snorted at Sanji’s reasonable accusation, looking unconcerned, “If you don’t climb down now, plan to spend the night on the tree. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he added smugly, “we are good at guarding things; I don’t mind guarding this tree. ‘Specially, for you, ugly brows.”

“Where the hell is Eggplant?” asked Zeff with both hands on his hip. The staff was busy sweeping and cleaning the dining hall. It was half-past ten; Patty just finished closing the restaurant. The fox’s bed on the reception counter was empty and so was the one in Zeff’s bedroom but Eggplant had yet come home.

“Well, do your bastards see him or not?” demanded Zeff, starting to get impatient and worried. Eggplant was a punctual fox; he was never late for dinner. Everyone was looking at each other, silently communicating wariness for their wellbeing.

Patty mindlessly scratched his chin, “You know, he isn’t a child, boss. Maybe he is chasing after a female like a pervert he is. Talking about this, I’ve never seen he’s in heat before, perhaps this is a fox mating season?”

For his bold accusation of Zeff’s beloved _s_ _on,_ he got a rolling pin to the head.

Sanji dropkicked the dog from the tree for its mockery which started the six-hour-long fight. Never he expected the fight to take this long but the beast was not about brawn, it surprisingly had brains. The dog seemed to possess a high level of swordsmanship. He used three swords at once, the kind of techniques Sanji never saw in his life. This together with its canine strength and instinct made it such a fearsome opponent to fight with. Sanji should be terrifying that there was an animal like this in his land but all he could feel was…fun. That’s right, fun. Something that he’d never had before. The fun to be able to go all out against a worthy opponent. He forgot everything: the innate fear of the hound that lingered in his animal brain, or the need to go home; nothing mattered but the fight.

When the fox met his swords with its legs, Zoro couldn’t conceal his surprise. He expected it to run away; Zoro never considered that he’d meet a decent fighter in a fox. His swords sang in their blood-thirsty delight.

 _Fascinating, this fox._ Purred his wolf brain.

They fought until they both couldn’t keep the human disguises anymore and continued the fight in their animal forms. The fox had a disadvantaged body and Zoro thought he’d finish it this time, or so he believed.

He was proven wrong but he wasn't disappointed. No. His blood boiled in excitement.

The animal fight was as exhilarating as the human combat but it was rawer, more ballistic. Teeth for teeth and claws for claws. The fox made up his lack of strength with agility and tactics. Not that he wasn’t strong, because the fox was fucking strong for the animal whose weight could not be more than 13 kg. Its kicks were fucking painful in both the human and animal forms; it would crush bones of lesser animals. But the fox’s intimidating power was still its speed. It was fast like the wind itself. Even Zoro’s eye found it challenging to follow its movement, and for a brief moment, it looked like it was flying. He couldn’t just catch it.

The only time the animal was in Zoro's attack range was when it attacked and this was the chance Zoro was waiting for as he played on the defensive stance.

There, it came.

Zoro got his snout scratched by the fox’s claws for a small price to pay to save his right eye from the fox’s attack. In retaliation, Zoro got to bite into the fox’s bushy tail.

The fox’s screech was heard through the entire forest.

“My tail!” Sanji screamed as he was back in his human body and kicked the wolf until it let go. His poor tail! His beautiful, bushy brush that he spent hours caring for it every day, now missed a large patch of fur. The fur that was still hanging off the wolf’s mouth.

Sanji should be grateful that it was just his hair and not his vital organ that got bitten off. But he was mad nonetheless. No, he was seething!

“You idiot! You mangy mongrel! You third-rate swordsman! You marimo-head!”

The wolf turned back to human and spit out Sanji’s fur. He coughed, “Fuck you. I should be the one complaining! Fucking hair in my mouth -- there are still there, ugh, disgusting. I need to wash my mouth.”

“The ladies would be so upset tomorrow,” lamented Sanji, purposefully ignoring the wolf.

“You die today, problem solves,” suggested the wolf sarcastically. 

“Shut up, marimo. Didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Somehow, the incident spoiled the fight. They didn't attack each other afterward, just two animals happened to share the same space and nurtured their wounds. The fox started to dress his brush in a hopeless attempt to hide the missing patch, while the wolf making gurgling sounds in its mouth and occasionally spitting out wet patches of golden hair.

“Please tell me you don’t have scabies,” Sanji groaned, he didn’t plan to start a conversation with the wolf. He didn’t expect it to answer though, but it did, “No.”

"Rabies?"

"No!"

The dog sounded affronted but it looked less hostile and didn't seem to attack him yet, so Sanji just followed the flow to see if he could get some information out of the wolf.

“So, you are the new arrival that the townspeople are talking about?”

“None of your business.”

“You are in my land, I think it’s very much my business to know who is using my land.”

The wolf turned back into his animal form in his blatant refusal to answer questions. It was being childish, and rude.

“Why are you here? What is your plan to do with my town?” Sanji continued to bombard it with questions anyway. “Where is your master?”

The wolf glared at that the mention of its master; it transformed back and barked, “He isn’t my master!”

“So, you are traveling with someone,” smirked Sanji while the wolf’s face reddened in embarrassment, “Is he in the castle now?”

“Like hell, I know. He does what he wants.”

“I’m going to go check on the castle.”

“If I were you, I would rather not,” the wolf told him evenly. “It’s warded. Even I don’t know what’s a kind of witchcraft he put on the castle but it’s sure not a fox-friendly one.”

The piece of information the dog just revealed bothered him. Because someone did something on his land's property. As he was to inquire the wolf for more info, he heard the eerie call that he’d never heard before the forest.

“Horohorohorohoro,”

It came from the castle’s direction. The wolf was unperturbed by the call of this unknown animal, however, he looked anything but happy.

He glanced at the sky, “You should go, fox. Today is your lucky day, I’ll let you go. Don’t come here ever again if you want to live.”

“It was a draw. Don’t speak like you spared my life because you didn’t,” Sanji hissed before looking at the sky. It was already dark and the old man would be furious by now. “You're right; I should go home. But this is far from over.”

The golden fox then disappeared into a nearby shrub and out of the wolf’s sight.

“The fuck happened to your tail, boy?” Zeff opened the back entrance when he heard the familiar scratching noises, the golden fox walked in and rubbed its snout on his legs. Its tail was missing a large patch of hair which shocked Zeff and every staff who had decided to wait for its return. The fox was always too possessive of its tail, only Zeff and women could touch it. There were small scratches and bitten marks all over his face and body as well which could only mean one thing.

“Did you get into the fight, Eggplant?”

The fox paused and,

“Aha, aeeh, aha, aeeeeeah,” it started ranting. It moved and jumped and whined vocally like it was recalling the fight to Zeff. The head chef was amazed. Eggplant was never a quiet fox, he talked all the time but Zeff had never seen him this lively. He looked angry, then, excited, indignant and happy.

“Yeah, yeah. Just eat. Everyone has been waiting for you. You fucking worried them,” Zeff scolded the fox who went to rub its body on everyone before eating his stew.

The humans were still trying to understand what happened. Like where did Eggplant go and who did he fight with?

“Did you win?” Zeff asked and get a little victorious shriek from Eggplant as an answer.

“Is this vixen beautiful?” asked Patty who was still sticking to the idea of the fox mating season. He got a dead rat on his pillow that night.

Zoro went back to the castle at 4 in the morning. Perona was there to nag him.

“You were lost again,” she informed him.

“No. I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. I called you since yesterday’s nine in the evening. Where have you been?” The pink-haired girl interrogated.

“Stop yapping, woman. I’m hungry,” Zoro ignored her and went to the kitchen room, opened and grabbed the largest piece of raw beef from the fridge. He planned to come back for a cow femur later. He needed something to gnaw on when he was on guard duty.

“You are no cute. At least, eat in your puppy form. It looks less disturbing,” Perona floated into the room and groaned at the unpleasant sight. Zoro purposefully grinned at her, his face smeared with blood, “No.”

“One day, I’m going to make a carpet out of your hide. You --”

“Is Mihawk coming back?” Zoro asked, cutting the woman off her petty rant.

Perona huffed, “No. he is still meeting up with the wolf pack in the north.”

Zoro’s interested piqued, “Is the alpha strong?”

“How the heck do I know?”

“You are the one with clairvoyance.”

“You could have gone with Mihawk and seen it with your own eye if you aren’t such a useless dog with a directional disability.”

“Shut up. The forest moves. It’s the work of sorcery.”

“Perhaps, the magic is strong with this one,” Perona said dismissively. Zoro stiffened even his façade remained indifference. He tried to eat in silence but Perona didn't let him off the hook, “I smell a fox on you, you know. Did you kill the spirit yet?”

Zoro didn’t answer which earned him a creepy cat-like grin from the witch.

“How is this possible, Roronoa Zoro, the great fox hunter, failed to kill a fox?” She goaded on.

“Shut up, witch. From now on, you deal with the spiders in your bathroom by yourself.”

“Bad dog!”

Zoro didn’t kill the fox the first time he found it. He didn’t kill it when it snuck in the second time either. Or the third. Or the forth.

The fucking pest kept coming back every day even he warned it not to. Zoro chased it up to the tree and they fought until the sky turned dark and the fox excused to go home. Zoro always rummaged the fridge after the fights because fighting the fox made him extra hungry; Perona was unhappy about it but like he cared about the witch’s feeling.

On their eleventh meeting or would you rather call battle, after the fight was over and Perona was summoning him home again with her ghostly call, the fox burst out in annoyance, “what the heck is that call? It’s creepy as hell.”

Zoro couldn’t agree with him more, “All I can tell is you’ll not like it when that thing gets through you.”

The fox wrapped his brushy tail, now healed, golden and puffy, around his body in a self-soothing manner, “what’s the kind of creature that is living in my castle? That’s it, I’m going to see it with my own eyes.”

“Hold your horses, fox. I told you: you cannot,” he said, shaking his head at the fox’s stubbornness. Then, he slipped out something he wasn’t supposed to say to the fox, “You cannot physically enter the place unless you're invited.”

Fuck.

The fox looked at him with a foxlike grin plastered on his face.

Their dynamic changed since Zoro’s stupid slip out and he didn’t like it at all. Now, it was him on the run while the fox chased after him, demanding for his invitation.

“Invite me in, wolf!”

“No, fox!”

They ran several laps around the forest. There was one time that the fox even chased the wolf onto the man’s road.

Here some bystanders’ comments: “Mom, is that Eggplant is hunting Mr. Wolf?”

“They are playing, dear. Even animals are nice to each other, you have to be nice to your sister too.”

“I didn’t know we have a wolf in our forest and I’m turning 112 years old next week!”

“That’s the biggest gray wolf I’ve ever seen. Did Zeff-san adopt this one too, I wonder? He'd not called me yet.”

“That fox is a menace!”

The wolf glared at him from the footpath it was guarding when it saw him, looking like it was prepared to lunge at him. Or run. But today, the fox had come up with a new tactic to win the wolf’s invitation with something he knew no one could resist. Even the wolf. Good food.

“I come with a peace offering.”

And Sanji presented to the wolf a bento box.

The ungrateful wolf looked unimpressed.

Sanji’s shoulder sagged, “come on, don’t tell me you didn’t know bento boxes? Marimo, are you living under a rock?”

The wolf let out an indignant growl and turned back into the grumpy swordsman.

“I know what a bento box is, curly. Did you steal someone’s lunch?”

“I cooked it myself,” said the fox, looking genuine proud of it. He thrust the lunchbox into Marimo’s hand, quickly stepped back before the wolf attacked, and looked at him expectantly.

The wolf’s brows furrowed but slowly he opened it and looked at…three pieces of rice balls wrapped in seaweed.

Zoro blinked, “I don’t eat cooked food.”

“Try it,” urged the fox.

“How do I know you don’t poison the food?”

Something in the air around the fox changed. He had known the fox for many days now and it was always playful and sassy even when they fought. Suddenly, the fox became abnormally serious. It looked at him in the eye and said, “I’m a chef. Do you know what that means? It means I take pride in my cooking. I never poison my food. Don’t insult me. Eat it.”

Normally, Zoro’d bite anyone’s head off if they dared to order him around. But there was something reverent in the way the fox talked about his cooking profession which Zoro, as a swordsman, could relate to and even respect for. So, he indulged the fox, picking up one of the rice balls. The fox seemed to go back to his normal self now as he was looking eagerly at Zoro to take the first bite.

He did and barely suppressed his moan.

His mouth was bombarded with flavors upon flavors.

Salty, sweet, sour and many more that he couldn’t name. The texture, the fragrance, and the flavors were so harmoniously combined in just one bite. Such complexity in simple food. The first ball was gone and his hand didn’t hesitate to pick another to relive the experience again. It shook him to the core; he didn’t know until today that eating could be this entertaining.

“It’s good,” he admitted to the fox, after finishing the last grain of rice off his fingers. He was reluctant but good work deserved recognition.

The fox beamed at him. “Of course, it’s,” he boasted, “I’ve been cooking for 11 years.”

“Why?” He asked, getting curious.

“My father cooks for a living. So do I,” explained the fox which absolutely clarified nothing.

“Do foxes cook now?”

“Obviously no. Not the animal. My father is a human.”

“….”

“….”

“You shouldn’t be telling me this,” said quietly Zoro.

The fox seemed to realize he just slipped out something he shouldn’t.

“I know,” he said and gave him a sad smile.

The fox didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that day.

The relationship with humans was a forbidden subject among wild animals. They all knew it existed but agreed to not talk about it. The animal who loved humans was frown upon by their pack and was shamed by the whole forest. To tell the other beast that you were living with the human was like a death sentence. You might not be killed on the spot but you would be excommunicated and to a pack animal, the punishment was worse than death.

Zoro never cared what the other animal said. But he agreed with them one thing – that nothing good would come from bonding with the human.

It never lasted. It always brought pain. When they were gone, you would be alone. And truly alone this time, you'd be, for no humans nor animals would understand why your heart was so broken.

It had been many years already and he still remembered her. Perhaps, as long as he was alive, he'd still be remembering her. The little girl in a little village who adopted a lost cub; raised it as her little brother and told it her deep secret, the most ambitious dream to become the greatest swordsman in the world.

_“Let’s become the strongest together, Zoro!”_

_“Woof!”_

She couldn’t keep the promise but he had to.

He had to do this.

He had to see through her dream. Because if he didn’t, she would be truly gone. Forgotten and alone in _that place_ waiting to return to nothingness. He stole Wado Ichimoji after the funeral and started living on the street. He begged a warlord to teach him swordsmanship, even made a contract with him to be his guarding dog. The most degrading, humiliating thing a wolf could be.

All for the human.

Just like that fox.

For the first time since he arrived in this provincial town, Zoro went down to the inhabited area of the human on his own will in search of the fox.

With no clues of the fox’s whereabouts, he blindly walked around the town hoping to pick up the fox’s scent which was tricky in the town with millions odor.

“Are you lost, big brother? You have been walking in a circle four times already,” someone called out Zoro and there on a playground was a group of human cubs staring at him.

“Huh?” Zoro looked at them.

The other kid whispered her scold to the boy who called Zoro, “Mother said don’t talk to strangers. He might be a kidnapper!”

“But his hair is green like grass,” the boy reasoned, “No bad guys have colorful hairs on the TV. And he doesn’t drive a van.” His reasons seemed to convince his friends who nodded and looked back at Zoro in awe because this big brother really had a cool appearance. He had swords!

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t dawdle the day away with human cubs but he really needed to find the fox before Perona started noticing his absence from the post.

“Kids, do you happen to know where I can find a golden fox?”

“Are you talking about Eggplant?” They asked instantly.

“…Eggplant?”

“Of course, silly. He is our local celebrity!” yelled the girl to the other kids like it was the most obvious thing in the world that Zoro was looking for 'Eggplant', “Are you a tourist, big brother?”

“I suppose.”

The girl leader said to the other kids, “mother said tourists bring money to the town and we have to be a good host to them.”

"Let's go cheer Eggplant up too, he is a bit sad lately!"

“Alright!” the others yelled, “Let’s take big brother to see Eggplant!”

Zoro tried his hardest not to laugh at the horrified face **the local celebrity fox** was having right now as it saw Zoro at the reception counter waiting to be queued.

“Hello, **Eggplant** ,” Zoro greeted and received the low warning growl back. 'Eggplant' got out of his fox-size bed and continued to spit at him. The fox looked as intimidating as a puffy fox with a little bowtie could be, which would be nothing. The waitress quickly intervened when she saw the fox vibrating in anger, “I’m so sorry, sir. He’s quite moody today. But he is really a friendly little fox, right, Eggplant?”

_Eggplant._

He didn’t intend to but he couldn’t help but laugh out loud because that was one of the silliest names. It seemed to be the last straw that broke the fox’s back; he lunged himself at Zoro.

The fox bit his arm. Humans started to scream about the blood when Zoro himself actually felt just a little numb on his arm. He grabbed the fox by the scruff to pacify him. The fox continued to thrash and shriek, “Gaaarrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Eiiehh!”

 _Moody today, aren't you?_ Thought Zoro while securing the fox with his hand.

“Eggplant!” Someone bellowed. And the thrashing fox in Zoro’s hand just went limp.

He was a man. An old one. With a peg leg and weird mustache. He just came out from the back door but Zoro knew immediately he was the alpha of this place. The fox wriggled free from Zoro’s grip and ran to hide behind the man's legs. The staff and customers around started to fill in the man of what just happened.

“That wild animal just attacked him!”

“He is always a sweet little fox! He isn't aggressive toward people like this before!”

“What are you talking about?! He is always antagonistic toward men!”

"Can someone get this man a first-aid kit, he's still bleeding!"

Zoro ignored someone who tried to get him a seat and watched as the man stared down at the fox who avoided eye contact like a scolded child. “If you are terrorizing my customers again, you are going to bed,” the man told the fox who whined softly and wrapped his tail around the man’s leg. To everyone’s surprise, the man smiled faintly and picked the fox up, cradling him against his shoulder.

Finally, he noticed Zoro who was standing with his bloody arm – and glared at him.

Zoro was suddenly nervous.

“I don’t know what you did to him, boy. But if you upset my fox again, I’m kicking you out. Understand?”

“Understood.”

The man nodded and turned his back on him. He watched the man walking back to the kitchen with the fox on his shoulder. He heard him gently comforted the sniffling fox. And Zoro watched with indescribable emotions. 

He knew the man was the fox's _Kuina_.

The fox looked back at him challengingly, daring him to condemn him for bonding with a human.

“I understand,” he said as he met the fox’s eyes with sincerity.

_Because I really do understand._

He recognized the last glance the fox was sending him before he disappeared behind the door. Gratefulness. 

He guessed his reason to be here was over now.

Zoro planned to go back to the forest was stopped by a large man with hairy arms who came offer him a free meal as compensation for being bitten by the fox. And Zoro just shrugged _why not_. 

He still had time before Perona started sending her ghosts after him and the fox's cooked food made him curious about the human's cuisine.

So, he was escorted to a table while the man who introduced himself as Patty babbling on some nonsense.

“Sorry about the tyke. You are lucky that he didn’t bite your hand off, dude. He attacked a guy before but that man was a douche. Also, please don’t write about this incident on Tripadvisor, thanks! So, what do you want?”

“Meat.”

The man blinked, “We have different kinds of meat dishes which one do you like?”

Huh. Interesting. They were giving him choices.

“Cow.”

“…You will get a steak,” said the staff after a big pause. “What’s a level of doneness do you want for your steak: rare, medium, or well done?”

“Raw.”

“…Rare, that's! Be right back!”

As far as Zoro’s first time ordering food in a human restaurant goes, it went smoothly.

The same bulky staff came back with a cut of cooked beef, even Zoro asked for a raw one. It was piping hot for Zoro to eat so he waited for it to cool off.

The man came back to check on him again, “Is everything alright?” He looked a bit on edge. Weirdo.

“Almost.”

“Almost what?”

Zoro deemed to food cool enough so he grabbed the steak with both of his hands and started tearing it off with his teeth, spilling the meat juice everywhere.

Patty gasped in horror. The waitresses and guests gasped in horror as they were subjected to witness savagery. The fox who was watching the swordsman behind the kitchen door was almost dying from the second-hand embarrassment.

“This is a knife and this is a fork,” the cook placed the silver utensils on the picnic linen that he brought with him along with the basket of food and drink. Several days later, it was a warm sunny day and they were having lunch together. This time was on the meadow Zoro had recently discovered while exploring around the forest (not getting lost). The cook was overjoyed to see wildflowers and Zoro was content with the alcohol he brought– that until the cook brought up the table etiquette issue again. “This is a soup spoon for soup –“

“I know what they are, shit cook. I’m not stupid,”

“Then use them. You traumatized my people.”

“Why? There is no human to see me when I eat. Why bother?”

The cook pouted and Zoro yawned.

He went to lie down on the grass field and closed his eye.

Seeing Marimo on the sea of green grass made Sanji remember about a certain question about the swordsman he had yet no answer to, “You haven't told me yet why your hair is green?”

Marimo groaned, “It’s noticeable. Human street fighters called delinquents always have unnatural hair. I need to attract their attention so I can fight them and get stronger. That’s it.”

As he finished, he turned back to his wolf form to avoid being interrogated anymore. To anyone and perhaps Sanji on their first encounter, the wolf's gigantic form looked so terrifying. He didn’t know since he started to see the wolf as just a giant ball of fur. Still dangerous and grumpy, though. But, right now, lying amidst wildflowers, he looked very perfect to be a fox bed for a fox to nap on. Logically, Sanji went to curl up on top of the wolf.

The wolf growled softly. _You smell like a human shampoo._

 _I bath twice a day,_ the fox kneaded the wolf to prepare his bed.

 _You have no dignity,_ snorted the wolf.

 _You never live until you take a warm bubble bath, marimo_ , the fox said sagely before wrapping the tail around himself.

The two animals had slept through the whole peaceful afternoon. They didn't sense nor see the black hawk flew past them to the castle.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Curse**

The forest had gone eerily quiet as if it was frightened to breathe. He felt the temperature dropped a few degrees -- and there, the smell of steel and incense. 

Mihawk had returned.

The wolf’s stomach dropped as he looked at the ball of fur who was sleeping peacefully on his midsection. Such a dangerous predicament they found themselves in. Zoro nudged the fox with his snout until its body slid off him and onto the grass.

The fox’s nose twitched as he stirred in his sleep.

He gasped for air when he finally sensed the presence of _something_ looming over the entire forest, foreign and dangerous.

The cook abruptly sat up, wide awake.

“Is that _‘him’_?”

“Yup.”

Sanji was speechless. Deep down, he knew someone as strong as the greenhead swordsman had to have a strong master but he never realized until now - the difference in power between the wolf’s master and them was just... too incredulous. Was the outside world full of people like this one, whose power and strength Sanji could never fathom?

“You must go home. Now.” The swordsman informed him grimly.

“Will he be mad?” _At you, because of me?_

The swordsman snorted, “Like I’d know his mind. He never succeeded in killing me before but I guess that because he didn’t want to, not because he can’t.”

Then he realized that he might have been too callous with words again, even it was directed at his own wellbeing.

“That’s not reassuring,” the cook's eyes shone with pain that Zoro had inflicted. The swordsman's eye softened, “I’m his contractual hound, silly cook. I’ll live. You, on the other hand, shouldn’t be coming here anymore. I mean it this time.”

His mentor did not hunt if someone didn’t hire him. But he was still a hunter and he was unpredictable. The fox shouldn't be coming here anymore. It was no longer safe.

The cook nodded quietly. _So, he can be compliant and reasonable when he has to._

Just when Zoro was about to heave out a sigh of relief, the cook said something that could easily be the stupidest thing Zoro had heard in his life,

“Sanji.”

Zoro choked on his saliva, “What… No! Don’t-“

“My name is Sanji,” the cook finished defiantly.

Zoro’s shock quickly morphed into cold fury, “Are you insane!? Fuck, shit cook! You cannot go tell people your name! They will fucking take advantage of you, you stupid fox!”

“I’m not naïve!” Shouted back Sanji equally angry, “I want you to learn my name. If you are in trouble, call me and I will find you.”

“Shit!” Zoro ruffled his green mane in frustration. This fox fucking frustrated him like no one could. Zoro knew what he was going to do was beyond crazy. But screw it, he was going to do it anyway.

“…My name is Roronoa Zoro. I don’t need your help.”

The cook grinned at him, “You will never know, Marimo! Guess what, I’ll be calling you Marimo; it suits your stupidity better.”

Zoro rubbed his chin and pretended to think, “I’m indecisive between shit cook and curly brows.”

“Fuck you, third-rate swordsman.”

They both snickered at each other. They wanted to stand here and shit talk to the other but it was time for both the animals to go back to their people.

“Go, shit cook,” said Zoro to Sanji who gave him back a tense smile before turning into the fox. The swordsman watched until the golden-haired animals disappeared from his sight.

Dracule Mihawk was sitting on his favorite red couch in the reading room, sipping wine and looking bored like he always did.

“Are you not going to greet your master who has returned from a long tiresome trip?” Said Zoro’s mentor from the couch. He did not even bother to turn around to know that Zoro was trying to sneak back in his room without greeting him.

“Do I have a choice to say no?”

“No.”

Zoro let out an insufferable sigh and entered the reading room to meet his master. And here he was, always sitting on that old dusty couch with a glass of wine in hand and the face that revealed no emotion. Zoro was convinced that boredom was the only expression the man was capable of showing. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure that the man was _a man_. Even a meddlesome witch like Perona gave up trying to find out Mihawk’s birth secret and was simply content herself with something along the lines _“he is one of a kind,”_ or “ _the truth is better left unknown.”_

Zoro himself didn’t care much about Hawkeye’s personal life as that knowledge wouldn’t help him achieve his goal. All he ever needed to know was that Mihawk was the strongest swordsman in the world whom Zoro was going to dethrone one day.

Still, after becoming his hound, he had learned some bits and pieces of Mihawk’s, like the man seemed to possess a vast array of knowledge of almost everything. He knew the forgotten histories and secrets of every place they visited. He was many things: a sorcerer, a shapeshifter, a swordsman – and a warlord.

A warlord who was waging war against the spirits.

The war that Zoro had given the oath to fight by his side.

Zoro unceremoniously dropped on the couch across Mihawk. He usually preferred to sit on the ground but he rather ate dirt than showed any signs of servitude to Mihawk. He was still a wolf; he had his pride.

“Where is Perona?” asked Zoro, intentionally not greeting his master.

Mihawk looked unfazed by the blatant insubordination. Actually, he didn't care at all of what Zoro thought of and did to him, which was very insulting.

“I gave her a bear carcass. She is playing with it in her room.”

Zoro shuddered at the thought of Perona’s **play.**

“You shouldn’t indulge her perversion. She will become more unbearable than she already is.”

“I’m not the one who deals with her,” Mihawk waved his hand off dismissively.

“Good to have you back, master,” said Zoro sarcastically.

“Good to be back, Roronoa. Still the same mannerless hound, I see.” He made a disappointing sound his throat before taking a sip from the glass. Zoro decided to change the subject for his sanity.

“How was the meeting with the wolves?”

“The wolves, as you know, are troublesome animals. For them, it’s always about pride, pack or solitude. Talking to one always exhausts me.” Zoro listened with the patience of a saint as Mihawk snubbed his kind. “But Trafalgar is surprisingly pragmatic for a young wolf – or maybe he’s just vengeful. He’s agreed on his pack moving south to join the war. I hope he doesn’t have a change of heart.”

“It’s still fine if he does,” Zoro pondered before letting out his bloodthirsty grin. The swordsman had heard of that black wolf before; he was also a swordsman. Zoro couldn’t help but want to fight him and his swords hummed in agreement.

“Don’t be foolish, Roronoa," scolded Mihawk like he was reprimanding a child, "Trafalgar is an asset to our side. You will need his assistance if you want a chance of taking down Doflamingo.”

The mere mention of its name made Zoro’s blood boil in anger. He saw it once or twice but it was always on the far-off side of the battlefields, and when he got there the sleazy fox was long gone, leaving a trail of death and disease in its wake. Doflamingo was the epitome of evil and for a long time, it was Zoro’s impression of the fox kind: selfish, cruel and deceitful.

That was why he never hesitated to kill this creature when he came across one in the battle.

Until he got a chance to know one of them.

The golden fox who was generous, whose simple happiness was to share his food with a wolf; the fox who was kind to his townspeople, who protected the land and who was too trusting to give a wolf his name.

Just thinking of the life of a beautiful creature like him being taken away made his heart ached.

Zoro felt guilt crept into his heart and he didn’t even know for whom he felt guilty, his mentor or the cook. But, he knew he failed them both and he was so ashamed of himself.

Mihawk regarded his pupil who went uncharacteristically quiet with a curious expression. There was no good thing coming from that expression.

Zoro was going to excuse himself to bed to escape his stare when Mihawk asked him bluntly,

“Where is your little friend?”

“I have no friend,” he sputtered a denial and cringed at how weak it sounded to his ears.

Mihawk didn’t look convinced nor did he look surprised at Zoro's lie. He kept staring Zoro down with his glowing yellowish eyes.

“That’s strange. On my way back to the castle, I saw a wolf playing with a little fox in the forest. Maybe my eyes deceived me?”

Now the bastard was toying with him.

“That’ right. You hallucinated things,” Zoro said because if Mihawk wanted bullshit, Zoro would gladly spoon-feed it to him.

“Roronoa Zoro,” commanded Mihawk in his stern voice. Zoro tried to clap his jaws shut, knowing words were going to be forced out of his mouth. It was futile – he had to say something quickly before the damn command spell would force the cook’s secret out of him.

“He is not my friend,” the wolf gritted his teeth. “He is my… nemesis.” Every syllable seemed to carry a ton of weight but he wasn’t lying. They weren’t _‘exactly’_ friends and a fox was a wolf's natural prey.

Mihawk stared him down, “Right. The nemesis that naps on your belly.”

“I swear I'll kill you if you dare use that damn command on me again,” he threatened while panting heavily on the floor. He knew his threat was pathetic and Hawkeye was giving him an unimpressed stare right now.

“You have to be reminded of your place. I’ve not done enough job in disciplining you recently. You cannot be disrespectful toward your master, Roronoa,” explained Mihawk why he had to humiliate Zoro.

“Fuck you.”

“Has it given you its name?”

“…Yes.” He felt so weak that he couldn’t protect even his privacy of mind but there was little he could do when Hawkeye really pried.

“Did you give it yours?”

Zoro gave his mentor a defiant smirk, “Yes.”

Mihawk put down his glass of wine and turned his full attention to Zoro. The hawk looked intrigued like finally, he found something entertaining to kill his time with.

It has been seven days since the wolf’s disappearance. Sanji went out to search for him in the forest every day despite the rain. He came back late to the restaurant each night, wet and shuddering from the cold. He laid on the bed like a sick animal, unable to be cheerful even for the sake of his worried ladies. He was too sad that even Patty and Carne didn't try to pick on him or Zeff didn't say a word when he was late for dinner. The worry was eating up his heart as the wolf had yet to be found.

But tonight Sanji was going to find the wolf at all cost. He’d not go home unless he found Zoro.

The castle was warded. He saw the castle but he couldn’t get close to it; he couldn’t find the entrance. It was unreachable as if the castle was completely separated from the regular world. Zoro could be dying in front of him right now and he could not see, nor hear, nor do anything unless he had the invitation.

So he sat on the open area and watched the Sun disappeared from the horizon, waiting for the _ghost_ to find him.

Shortly after its eerie call ended, the white translucent spirits appeared on the sky and went to surround him. He bared his teeth at them warningly.

To the fox’s surprise, the ghosts squealed, “Oh, you are so tiny and adorable!”

And Sanji was invited to the castle.

Perona was such a beautiful lady even she gave him a disgusted face when he drooled on her, “Please go back to your animal form! You are cute as a man but you are so obnoxious!” Then she flew away and in a normal circumstance, he would have pursued her, had there not been a man in the room who was staring at him with the eyes that scarily bore a resemblance of the bird of prey.

“Where is the wolf?” He barked at the man.

“In the dungeon.”

Sanji now glared at him with unhidden hatred. 

“Ho, you do care about my hound.”

“You son of a bitch…”

“I’ll be straight with you, you cannot fight me, little fox.”

“Grrr,” the fox growled which only further the man’s amusement. “But your power is useful," the man admitted to the angered fox, "I’ll strike a deal with you. Say, fox – **why don’t you join me and the hound into the war?** ”

Zoro was meditating in the old underground prison when Perona came to pester him again. But this time she told him that the fox was here and was meeting with _Mihawk_.

“Shit!!!” He cursed. He didn't even have time to scold the witch for not telling him this earlier. He didn't even try to dress as he grabbed his clothes and ran upstairs, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t be too late.

In the living room sat Mihawk in his stupid couch, drinking wine, with no signs of the fox. There was no blood but Mihawk could swallow the cook whole so Zoro would not be rest assured until he saw the cook.

“Where is he?!” Yelled Zoro.

“At home, obviously. He has to go home to his human. Are you not aware of this fact by now?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Mihawk. What did you do to him?”

Mihawk looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at him. But he didn’t because he was Hawkeye who was incapable of doing uncool things. “I talked to him. As your master, I’ve taken the matter into my own hands and asked him to come with us for you.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

_Seven days earlier._

_“If you want to punish me, just do it.”_

_“Tempting. However, I must decline your offer. We are at war and I have no use for an incapacitated hound.”_

_Zoro was frustrated. “Then, what do you want to do with me? Are you going to make me kill the fox?”_

_Mihawk grunted in distaste. “Don’t be dramatic, Roronoa. What makes you think I would ask you to commit something so foolish like that?”_

_“You’ve lost me, man,” said Zoro. He was now more confused than pissed. “Isn’t that your designed job as the government’s warlord? To wipe out the spirits?”_

_Mihawk looked him from head to toe like he was assessing Zoro’s worth and came up with a result that Zoro was the insufferable child whose intelligence was clearly not on the brighter side of the intellectual spectrum._

_“You should know by now that I find the government a group of fools. I never conceal my feeling or my thought of their short-sighted order. This world doesn’t belong to the human race. It cannot and should not be rid of the spirits. I eliminate ones that annoy me. It’s just a coincidence that they are the government’ wanted.”_

_Zoro blinked and for the first time since he was forced into this unbearable conversation with his mentor, he felt relieved, “So I don’t have to kill him.”_

_“I’m not saying that.”_

_“…What?!”_

_“How much do you know about this town, Roronoa?” Randomly, Mihawk asked._

_“Don’t change the topic—“_

_“I am not. I’m teaching you, which I might consider not doing it again if you continue to fail me by letting your animal brain takes the lead.”_

_Zoro shut up. And Mihawk was right - he had been panicking since the talk began and it never helped. The swordsman quickly composed himself before answering his mentor’s question._

_“Not so much. To me, it's a town like others. It’s is one of our many stops. I don’t see why I have to bother learning about its history when we will soon leave it behind.”_

_“That’s your first mistake,” Mihawk pointed out, “whenever you are in a new town, keep your ears open. Explore its lore, history, and gossips. I’ve known this place since the first group of settlers moved in and turned the wasteland into a town-"_

_He knew it, Mihawk was fucking ancient. “-Throughout history, it used to be the most impoverished town. That, until 21 years ago-”_

_Zoro’s breath hitched._

_“Haven’t you noticed something peculiar in the forest, Roronoa? That leaves seem to never leave the trees; or why the little green meadows survive the breath of December’s winter? Within 21 years, the farmers discover that barren lands start to yield crops again and fishermen are surprised by plenty of fattest fish in the sea. There is even a rumor of an infertile woman who miraculously became pregnant when she moved in the town.”_

_How does he have all the info when he is barely here? Thought Zoro. But more importantly, he knew Mihawk did tell the truth. And they were likely the work of a spirit._

_Fucking shit cook._

_“I still don’t see the problem you are trying to imply,” Zoro said calmly, “he doesn’t hurt anyone. He is like – one of the fertility spirits, right? They are harmless; all he does is protecting his town and makes fishes fat.”_

_“That is why I’m telling you to listen to the townspeople’s gossips,” Mihawk taught and Zoro really, really didn’t like the direction they were heading._

_“About last week, a man celebrated his birthday. He is 112 years old. His birthday wish -- is to die because he feels he's been living for too long. There is also another rumor, people dismiss it as a paperwork error, but it is correct. **This town hasn’t seen a single death in 21 years.** Roronoa, they cannot die.”_

_Zoro felt the chill running down his spine._

_“Do you understand the gravity of the situation now?”_

_“Is it his doing?” Zoro whispered._

_Mihawk nodded, “I don’t think he does it consciously. Like you, he’s young, probably still a one-tailed. Nonetheless, conditional immortality is nothing but an impressive feat. Not even the spirits who are older and wiser than him are capable of granting such a gift.”_

_But._

_Is it really a gift?_

_The immortality that was attached upon the land, how easy it was to acquire immortal lives by just living on land? While the human kings had searched for the elixir of life for thousands of years, these townspeople would never know the truth. They would grow up; they would age. Like any normal mortals did. But they would keep living on. Even if their legs became too frail to stand, even if their bodies shriveled to a size of a grain of sand, as long as they lived on the fox’s land, they’d live forever._

_Unless they moved out._

_Or the fox moved out._

_“Now it’s time for you to make a decision.”_

_Zoro closed his eye with a sinking heart._

_“Why me?”_

_“I’ve not just recalled these stories just have an amicable conversation with you. This is your lesson. I’ve given you the problem, now you go solve it.”_

_And he knew Mihawk really meant about it to be Zoro’s lesson. He didn’t do it to torment him. Despite everything, he was a good mentor._

_But Zoro needed to be away from him right now. He needed to be out of the castle and in his wolf form._

_The human emotions had become too unbearable, tearing his skull apart. In his wolf body and mind, everything was more simplified; the emotion was still there but less haywire; he had room to breathe while he thought of what he had to do._

_“Do you think he will figure it out?” Perona asked Hawkeye. It wasn’t like she cared about the wolf’s feeling but his howl echoing in the dungeon every night was so disconcerting. That’s right, she wasn’t worried but his distress call disturbed her sleep._

_“We are leaving in eight days. Until then, I’ll let him sort it out by himself before taking action.”_

_Back to the present,_ _day 7._

_The night before the departure._

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t make up your mind when the answer cannot be more obvious," Told Mihawk to the wolf who was tying his boot's laces. "The spell on this town will be lifted upon his departure. The townspeople will get to die, I will get an asset and you will get the fox. No blood spills.”

“That is what you will never understand, Hawkeye,” said Zoro. “Someone is getting hurt.”

Then, he left the forest.

He miraculously found the fox’s restaurant in the first try. The street was void of living beings. Every human was tucked into bed, including the resident fox of the Baratie. At first, Zoro planned to break in the house but decided not to as there were other humans in the restaurant. It wasn’t the best place to have a talk with the cook. So, he started howling at the restaurant’s back door.

It didn’t take long until the back door creaked open and the golden head of the irritated fox appeared. His eyes widened when he saw the wolf.

“Quiet, you animal! You are waking everyone up,” hissed the fox and closed the door with his paw before jogging to him.

The two animals went to the nearest alley to talk.

The cook tilted his head in a questioning manner, “I didn’t expect you to come for the answer this early?”

“Answer what?” Now, it was the swordsman’s turn to be confused.

“Your master told me everything --”

Zoro _doubted_ that.

“—he asked me to join you into the battlefield because you, he said and I quote, ‘too coward to ask me face-to-face,’ I didn’t believe him. He tried to trick me to say yes but I asked him to release you from the prison first. He told me to come by tomorrow morning to see you and give the answer to his proposal. Is it true that you all are leaving?”

_Damn you, Mihawk._

“Yes, we are leaving.”

“…Do you really want me to come with you?”

“…Yes.”

Sanji gave him a warm smile. “You know if it’s a short trip, maybe I can. I want to fight strong people and get stronger but I cannot leave this town too long --”

That was when Zoro could not keep up with the lies anymore. He wanted the cook to come. He desperately wanted him but not by deceit, not by omission.

“Sanji…”

The cook paused and looked at him with his large blue eyes. “Sanji, listen to me. You have to leave the town.”

“So they have been right, those people," chuckled Sanji bitterly, "Turn out, I'm really a demon fox. They'd have a field day if they know." Then, he looked at Zoro and pleaded, “but I cannot leave it, Zoro. Don’t ask me to leave my town.” 

He was begging and Zoro's heart was breaking.

“This isn’t right. I cannot, in my conscience, let you do this.” _Because it would destroy you._

“Will you kill me?” Sanji’s eyes were hidden behind his golden bang but the swordsman didn’t have to see his face to know he was in pain. Because he too, felt the same.

“No. Never,” whispered back Zoro, his heart ached at the mere thought. “Please come with me. You don’t have to make a contract with Mihawk. I’ll challenge him. When I’m free, we can go anywhere –“

“I don’t want to go anywhere!” the cook lashed out.

“You cannot stay here either!”

“Why cannot I?! What’s wrong with immortality? Be honest, Zoro, would not you do the same for Kuina if you had my power?!”

Zoro bared his teeth, furious, “You are taking away the people’s right - to die! Don't you darebring **HER** into this piss fight, cook!”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry but I’m not going anywhere. I can’t…” the cook started to hyperventilate, tears streaming down his face, “I owe him. I can’t, not especially after I know this. And it’s winter again…”

Too traumatized to keep the disguise, he went back into his original form. The small fox curled up on the cold pebble street with his brush hiding all his face, wailing pitifully.

Zoro sat down on the dirty alley and took the little body into his chest, hugging it with his life. He couldn't breathe but he had to make it right for the fox. “Your father is a proud man,” he began softly, stroking the fox's soft fur, “Of course, he is. He is the one who raised you. Do you think a man like him would appreciate being imprisoned in his own body against his will?”

"..."

"..."

“No,” sniffled the cook, still sitting on the swordsman’s lap.

“You have to let go.”

Sometimes, the animals wondered. Did it hurt this badly because of its gained wisdom? Would it hurt any less if they could trade it back to become a normal beast again? But, here was the truth; all animals had a heart. Even the dogs, the cats or the wildlife with no magic, they were breathing, they were bleeding and they could equally be heartbroken. The animal spirits just had more means to mourn than their ordinary counterparts. In any form, lives were simply about suffering and healing. So, the two sat in the dark alley in silence, just two hurt animals in the body of the man comforting each other in the moment of pain.

After a while, the cook nodded against the swordsman's chest, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Zoro whispered back.

“Okay, I will go. But let me go say goodbye to him first.” 

The swordsman nodded. “I’ll go challenge Mihawk. I come back to you when I’m done, alright?”

“Don’t die, Zoro.”

“Wait for me, Sanji.”

**The Gift**

Zeff sat there on the same chair in the kitchen when Sanji got back inside. While still in his human form.

Zeff just looked at him with the eyes of a man who knew the truth. He had known it all along. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” whispered Sanji after he regained his composure from the shock. “You never compliment my food,” he added, a bit accusatory.

Zeff snorted. “Whom I’m supposed to deliver my compliments to -- thin air? If you want my compliments, you stand by my table like a real chef to his guest, not on your fox bed, shitty Eggplant.”

“When did you know?”

“Since the first bowl of soup you served me. It had fox hair in it.”

Sanji’s face reddened instantly in embarrassment.

“Sit down, Eggplant. And tell me, what is eating up your heart?”

When he walked back to the restaurant, Sanji had no idea how he was going to explain to Zeff about everything, of the wolf, the war and the curse in a way that a human could understand. If he could choose, he'd rather have his existence ceased because he knew he was going disappoint the man whose opinion mattered to him the most.

The talk, it turned out to be easier than he expected. As he sat down on the same chair in the kitchen he had grown up in, with a gentle prod from the man he loved as a father, he started talking and everything came pouring down like a broken dam.

Zeff listened without saying anything until Sanji finished the story with the wolf going back to the castle, and made a “hmm” sound in his throat.

Sanji didn’t dare to look at him in the eye.

“Remember when you were a three-month-old kit, Eggplant?” Zeff asked out of the blue, “You gnawed on my favorite boots and buried them in the playground. By the time I dug them up, they were unsalvageable.”

“Why are you reminiscing this unrelated incident, old man?”

“I’m saying, instead of destroying my boots, now you've cursed the town. After all these years, you are still the same little troublemaker, aren’t you?”

There could not be too much fondness in the way a man spoke of his son's mischief. When you heard one, you would know it for sure because fatherly love was universal. Tears started falling down the young man's face as he finally found the courage to look at his father who was looking back at him with the same affection in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to die,” hiccupped Sanji.

“To be frank, I had never paid attention to it – if I live or if I die – that was until you came into my life. Every day after that, I wake up every morning and feel grateful that I get to live for another day because it means another day I get to see you. But this thing isn’t up to me or you to decide. **I’m going to die one day but I’m not going anywhere.”**

“Zeff…”

Zeff felt his eyes started to get teary as well. Damn it, he was too old to cry.

“So, go live your life. Go see the world with the dog. When you see it enough, you come home, Sanji.”

Zoro still couldn't wrap his head around what just happened at the castle when he went back to challenge Mihawk.

_“Dracule Mihawk, I challenge you to a duel. If I win, I take the title of the greatest swordsman and you will set me free from the contract.”_

_Mihawk didn’t even look up from the book he was currently imbued in._

_“You exhaust me. Just go, wolf. I_ _set thou free.”_

_Eh?_

_“What?” said Zoro._

_“I don’t know why it’s hard to understand. You cannot defeat me yet and it’d be a waste to kill you now as I’ve spent time mentoring you. I have no use for a lovesick puppy. Come back to me when you're stronger. For now, just go back to the fox and mount him.”_

_“What the fuck?!?!” How could he say something so crude with that emotionless face? “I don’t want to mount him!”_

_Mihawk turned a page, “It could be seen from the moon that you are infatuated with the fox. If you are uncertain of the intercourse, given the anatomical difference of you both, just do it in your human forms. Although I’ve seen the impossibility of interspecies coitus before, his and your canine bodies are highly compatible.”_

_Zoro thought, that’s it! I’m out!_

_“Fuck you,” The swordsman said to his mentor. It was the last word they exchanged as the mentor and the pupil before meeting each other again many years later._

_“You are a softy," Perona told Mihawk as they both watched the swordsman ran away._

_“I don’t know what are you talking about?”_

_“You let him go. You distracted him with that disgusting absurdity so he’d not insist on fighting. You are rooting for them, aren’t you? I didn’t know you are secretly a romantic sap,” she teased._

_Mihawk put down the book and sighed, she was indeed insufferable._

_“I don’t object love.” He said and surprisingly he sounded - sincere about it. Perona was speechless._ _“When done right, it’s a powerful force. An animal is as strong as it’s destined to be, but it becomes greater for love.”_

_His tone was almost melancholic._

_One would wonder even a strong being like Dracule Mihawk once loved too?_

_“He’ll never find his way back to challenge you for the title," Perona changed the subject because this pondering Mihawk was so different, it weirded her out._

_“The fox can.”_

On his way back to the town, the swordsman sensed - the air felt different somehow.

The fox had waited for him in the alley. When he arrived, the fox motioned Zoro to follow him to the backdoor of the restaurant. Even he was puzzled by the animal’s action, he followed him inside, to the kitchen room where an old man was sitting on the chair.

The same old man who threatened to kick his ass.

The fox climbed up the man’s lap and snuggled to him. The man petted his head and let him stay on there. Zoro just noticed that both of them had the same pairs of blue eyes and they were now watching him.

“So, you are the dog who howled at ungodly hours and woke the townspeople up?” Zeff said to the man. But standing before him was no more a man but a wolf. Hmm, that how magic worked? No sound. No smoke.

The wolf was the largest one he had ever seen. Its fur was grey as its eye. And Zeff noticed…

“There is no green? Where the heck does that green on your head come from, boy?”

The wolf looked indignant while the fox snickering so hard he fell on the floor. And kept laughing.

The wolf stayed the night at the restaurant.

“Eggplant is going on a journey?” Patty scratched his bale head, “The _Le Petit Prince_ whose fur never gets dirty?” All the staff and old customers of the Baratie had gathered outside the restaurant waiting for the fox who was departing. The fox looked surprised to see almost everyone in the town coming to say goodbye to an animal like him but even more, he was too stunned at the scenery before him, the town was covered in snow that had fallen last night when he was asleep. The fox turned to Zeff and gave him a look that resembled that of the lost little kit.

The children were playing and shrieking in delight while their parents chatting with each other, equally high-spirited for the return of winter.

“For the children, it's their first snow," Zeff said to the fox, “pretty, isn't?"

It was indeed pretty. And Sanji finally understood- there was beauty in everything even in the winter. Especially in the winter.

The townspeople saw the fox and all said, " we will miss you, Eggplant!”

And they really meant it.

The fox let everyone come to give a goodbye pet to him, even allowed the stinky chefs like Patty and Carne to touch his pretty brush.

It gave a loud affectionate call to the head chef one last time before starting its first journey.

“Would he survive the wild, head chef?” Carne asked worriedly which was the same thing on everyone's mind. Their fox was so small and the world was too big.

“He’s not alone,” Zeff smiled. And to the townspeople’s surprise, waiting for Eggplant on the snow-covered street was a big grey wolf. Eggplant gekkered friendly at the wolf, and together they traveled the man’s road.

They traveled by day as a pair of men and by night as a couple of animals. When the fox was bored and in the mood for mischief, it would ride the wolf on its back during the day. When the wolf was annoyed by the fox, like when the latter went to flirt with some females, it’d go grab it by the neck and carry it away from the suitors despite the fox’s protesting cry. The fought and quarreled all the time. The wolf didn't mind fighting but when it got tired of the fox's nagging, which the fox did very often as it could find everything the wolf did offended it in some way, the wolf would muzzle-grab the fox in an attempt to silence it.

Needless to say, the attempt failed. But it kept doing anyway because the fox was right, it really liked offending the fox.

The animals met some memorable traveling companions on the way. One of them was the black wolf. The grey wolf immediately shielded the fox with its body and growled at Trafalgar who even was a wolf, grinned like a fox. “I was raised by a fox,” explained the alpha. The fox was bought by the new wolf's backstory instantly. It even groomed the black wolf's mane to comfort its loss. It got grabbed by the neck and carried away by its protective wolf while the black wolf watched in amusement.

_There are many more of us out there. A bunch of stubborn freaks who form forbidden friendships with those they are not supposed to._ Trafalgar said before parting from them and he was right. On their journey, they found the monkey and its party of freaks. With them, the wolf and the fox were roped into fighting the great wars with a dragon lord whom Doflamingo had been working for all the years. There were also the giantess who spread famine whenever her clan went and the giant black tanuki who stole the light.

The rest was history.

Zoro finally defeated Mihawk. They went back to the small village to tell the little girl. Her name would live on, as long as there were spirits on Earth.

“Ready to go home?” asked the now greatest swordsman.

“I am,” smiled back the cook.

Many years had gone by since that snowy day.

Zeff’s hair was now silver-white instead of blonde. He had become smaller, frailer and his back was killing him every morning. But his eyes were still bright and his lips still remembered the colorful curses he loved so much during his sailor years. He had trouble standing up for a long period so wisely decided to take a morning off to save his leg and to do what he loved, foraging.

The rain last night yielded in satisfactory blooms of mushrooms and Zeff was pleased with the result in his basket. He slowly walked around the forest, flipped some rocks and put something he deeded valuable in the basket. Every time, he walked past the same grass field, he smiled to himself. It was almost like yesterday that the forest gave the most invaluable gift to him. Everyday Zeff woke up and he was still feeling grateful for it was another day that he could still think of his boy.

As he almost walked out of the forest, he heard the call of a fox.

When he turned back, they were there.

The big grey wolf who impossibly seemed to get bigger and -

The one golden fox.

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse my English.


End file.
